If You Will Cleave to Me
by Beruthiel10158
Summary: Vignette. Arwen's thoughts before Aragorn's departure from Lothlorien.


_Disclaimer: All characters contained herein are the creation of JRR Tolkien and property of the Tolkien estate. I make no claims of ownership to anything mentioned in the story, and write solely for personal pleasure. No money has been or will be made from this writing. _   
  
  
  


**If You Will Cleave to Me**

  
  
  
_"...and if you will cleave to me, Evenstar, then the Twilight you must also renounce."_

And so comes the moment of choice at last, set before me in subtle declaration. Yet though the words are uttered by mortal lips, it seems to me that Fate is speaking to me through this Man that now awaits my answer to his unwittingly shrewd trap. 

In my heart, I knew–have always known–that I would someday be called to choose between Elves and Men, that though I have lived all my days with the gifts of the Firstborn, that was but a grace given for my father's sake. So long as he lives east of the Sea, all his offspring shall share in his inheritance. But we, the children of Elrond, are given a grace of our own, to choose for ourselves our Kindred. 

I have often wondered at this tale of my forefathers. It is an old story, even to the Elves, having its beginning not with the birth of the Peredhil, or even with the marriage of Eärendil and Elwing, but with Lúthien the Beloved. It is long since I have heard the songs, since in the darkening days and the fading of the Elves in Middle-earth, the joy of the Firstborn has waned. For the oldest of those that remain, the songs of lost glory only deepen the sorrows. But among those Elves which still are young, hope remains strong in our hearts and our joy of Middle-earth is yet undimmed. The songs of Lúthien were my favorite in childhood, and I was always eager to hear them sung to me in the clear, rich voice of my mother. Ever did the tale of the love of Lúthien and Beren enthrall me; what qualities could a Man–any Man–possess to engender a love so powerful that a daughter of an Ainu would sacrifice all–her birthright as the daughter of Melian, immortality, family, and the unparalleled beauty of Aman? Beren must have been great indeed to inspire such legendary defiance and courage in that Elf maiden from the Years of Starlight, to cast all away for his sake. 

It is hard not to smile as I recall the indulgent fantasies of early youth, when I oft would imagine myself in the guise of fearless Lúthien, my heart and soul swept away with a love as grand as hers. Yet...within the safety of girlhood dreams, never did I truly have to make such a choice as hers, and ever was my lover an Elf prince from beyond the Sea–a grand and fair lord worthy of one possessing my high lineage. But even were that so, they were but the imaginings of a girl-child, and once dreams were abandoned, I never again gave thought to the matter of Lúthien's choice, or to the choice which is given me by the Valar. 

Strangely, a long forgotten memory comes to my mind. My father and mother spied me lost in daydreams once when I was learning to sew, and when Father questioned me, I remember thinking it odd how quickly his mirthful smile faded so quickly to an inexplicable frown as I blushed and admitted my thoughts. I never gave it further heed, but now I wonder if my father had sensed then the doom that lies before me now. 

He must have, I realise. Many seasons hence, for a time when I had been planning to journey to Lórien, he was reluctant to have me depart. I suspect he was lonely for Mother, whom we all sorely missed. Yet almost immediately after we learned of Arathorn's death, he all but sent me away as he made arrangements to receive Gilraen and her toddler son. Did Father know? Is this moment what he has feared from the start? Looking at Estel, I know that to be the truth. Elrond the Wise is the most farseeing of all the Firstborn that remain in Middle-earth, save Galadriel. 

Though I understand the fear of my father, I cannot but feel some anger toward him. I would make my own choice, free of the manipulations of others, for good or ill. Yet I cannot forget that he is wiser than me, and I lack the depth of his foresight... 

But Estel is waiting, and in his stern, grey eyes, I see that my silence is causing him both worry and consternation. I must answer him soon. But is this how I must make my choice? I was not ready for this. 

Or was I, and I simply fear to voice it? 

In all my days, I never thought I would be forced to make the choice of Lúthien. Before Estel, there was no choice. Of course I would not choose Middle-earth over my family! For though I love this land, what is the worth of trees and earth and clear-flowing rivers beside the people I love most? And I have heard too many tales of the beauty and grandeur of the West. Who would choose to remain and die in Middle-earth against the glorious alternative of eternal bliss in Aman? But now it is no longer a choice between land and kin. Now I am caught between two loves, and either choice is a sundering from one I hold precious. 

Mother. Thoughts of her remind of me of two oaths I swore which now threaten to rend my heart in two. When I saw the pain in my father's eyes over her decision to depart, I thought my own heart would shatter to see him so broken. I could never despise my mother, but I never came to understand how she brought herself to abandon her husband and children. It took heroic effort, I believe, for Father not to forsake Middle-earth then and sail away with her. I think, if he had, so would I and my brothers. He asked me to accompany her when she was boarding her ship. And I would have gone with Mother, for I did not want her to leave me. But I saw that for all his urging, Elrond did not truly wish to be parted from daughter as well as wife. I could not do that to him, and so I remained. The pain he bore, and continues to bear, drove me to swear, as the ship vanished from sight, never to inflict that sort of pain on the one I deemed to love. Never, I promised myself, would I choose to abandon my love, but to endure whatever sorrows plagued my soul. Seeing the pain that the Lord of Rivendell was forced to conceal in the days that followed, I swore also that I would never abandon my father, or my brethren, as Mother had done. 

Yet I did not think that the one who captured my heart would be mortal... 

It should be an easy decision. My family loved me, and I loved them, ere Estel was ever a thought in his mother's heart. He is no longer young, even for one of the Dúnedain, and a lifetime with him, even if we were wedded this very eve, would be all too fleeting. Would it be worth the loss? 

What is it about this Man that has made me forget wisdom? When first I met him, he was very young, barely a man at all. There was a bold recklessness about him, and he was not a little prideful. But I could also sense a quality in him such as is found in few Men in these times. His was a noble, kingly heart from its beginning. Yet in the time since he has become something greater still, and though he was raised by my people, this trait of greatness is his own and we cannot claim credit. That I knew when first I saw him again as he walked toward me for the first time after our long parting, bearing blossoms of elanor. I knew that he was the reason I have walked alone, keeping my heart safe from all who might try to snare it. Since that night, I have been unmindful of everything save Estel alone, and the wondrous rapture that he inspires in me when we are together. I have never felt more alive. 

But still, to choose him, which my heart yearns desperately to do, I would perforce forsake others I love and do not wish to be parted from. Also, I wonder at Estel's audacity, for I know that his coming to me was against the wish of his lord. Perhaps I should be offended at this disrespect of my father, but instead I am flattered. It is hard to keep myself turned away from him, and I can feel the apprehension Estel feels. But I do not want him to see my face, for I think he would see the turmoil I feel, and I doubt not that he would regret his words, which have forced me to face the moment of choice whether or not I am ready to decide. Why is it that I have delayed this moment? Is it because I cannot bring myself to choose the one and forfeit the other? 

Nay. 

The thought of denying Estel grieves me more than words can say. I think my choice was made in the day when I first saw him in this realm. I have tried to avoid this moment because I love my father and all my kin dearly, yet I cannot forget how this Man makes my heart sing with joy that I have never before known. And I know that Estel would forsake all for me if he could. I fear that my presence here is the reason he has not already returned to the wild. It is only his sense of honor which keeps him firmly rooted to his responsibilities. Perhaps he has the same measure of foresight as I, and knows that the road will be long and arduous yet before our time comes... 

_Before our time comes._ Does this mean that my heart has indeed already chosen, and I simply refuse to admit it? 

Yes, I have chosen. What little foresight I possess has opened my eyes to two possibilities. It matters not now what has happened to bring me to this moment–-death is my fate, no matter which doom I choose. I would surely curse Fate for this doom that has been given me as a child of Elrond, yet suddenly I see not curse, but blessing. For good or ill, I love this Man, and if I do not die as his wife, then I will die of grief for rejecting him. Yet if I were the daughter of some other Elf-lord, I would be bound to the life of the Firstborn and would have little choice but to endure my sorrowful yearning. I know that if I can endure the long wait, then we will have joy in the end, when finally we can be husband and wife. There is no way now that I could find joy to live for ages uncounted in the Blessed Realm, with only memory of the time Estel and I wandered together under the golden trees of Lórien. Rather, I fear memories would endeavor to drive me to madness and grief. Nor will I permit my father, who sought to protect me, to watch me waste away in the Undying Lands. If death is to be my lot, no matter the choice, then I choose to die with Estel. 

"I will cleave to you, Dúnadan, and turn from the Twilight."   
  
  


**~Fini~**

  
  
  
Author's Note:  
_As badly as I have wanted to write this vignette and explore what was going through Arwen's head when Aragorn cornered her with his statement , I had a hard time with it. The whole 'love at first sight' bit has always bothered me, but there wasn't much getting around it for this story without breaking canon. Also, not being romantically inclined, I had trouble getting inside Arwen's thoughts to find away to express her feelings for him. Feel free to review and leave constructive cricitism at your heart's content. _


End file.
